


dissonance

by kyleworthington (lairdofthelochs)



Series: 'and time yet for a hundred indecisions' verse [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 16:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9666326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lairdofthelochs/pseuds/kyleworthington
Summary: Kyungsoo travels between parallel universes, and in every one there is Chanyeol.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written as the third (and maybe last part to the 'and time yet...' universe), but can be read as a standalone fic.

Kyungsoo opens his eyes, and he is twenty-two again.

Chanyeol is standing in front of him, staring worriedly as if Kyungsoo has done something wrong, like he's missed a dance step or sung in the wrong key. But Kyungsoo has two left feet and has little care for repercussions if he sings off-key. This Chanyeol is different than the one he knows, the one he is familiar with. Neither has Kyungsoo set foot in this building, let alone this room. Kyungsoo looks around, taking in the view. One side of the room are covered with full length mirrors, and a wall with a background of bright blue skies and white clouds on the opposite side. Kyungsoo scrunches his nose, smelling floor detergent and faint sweat, and as of this moment, Chanyeol's cologne.

It's a dance studio.

An empty space, save for Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, and their tired reflections. Chanyeol is wearing his baggy sleeveless shirt today, a snapback over his sweaty, floppy hair dyed crimson. He looks drained, murderous. Dark circles around his eyes, his usual smile vacant from his lips.

"How are you?" Kyungsoo asks. The question comes off as awkward; jarring against the low hum of the floor heating. The clock on the wall tells him that it's 2 o'clock, _ticking, ticking, ticking,_ a steady beat against his fluttering heart. Kyungsoo draws a sharp breath. Judging from the darkness outside, Kyungsoo thinks that it's early morning, _it's way too early for this_ , and Chanyeol probably hasn't slept well in days.

"You know how I am, Kyungsoo. Has the last 24 hours fried your brain too?" There is a certain sharpness in Chanyeol's voice, it shrills like resentment down Kyungsoo's spine.

Chanyeol's phone wouldn't stop pinging. Floods of messages through his SNS accounts, endless questions about the truth. A wry laughter is his only response, before he lifts up a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Chanyeol pretends to yawn. Trying to hide his true feelings, pretending that he's okay. It's a front that Chanyeol has gotten better at, but has never really mastered. "Junmyeon-hyung's downstairs to talk to manager-hyung if you need to speak to them," Chanyeol says with conviction, but his eyes are still closed. Kyungsoo stays still, caught in time and space, trapped within Chanyeol's atmosphere. When Chanyeol opens his eyes, Kyungsoo thinks he could see tears.

 _Oh_ , Kyungoo thinks.

He's gone back too far in time, in a different kind of universe. It's the one where Kris has just left, abruptly and without warning. And Chanyeol is carrying the burden of not knowing why, what he's done wrong, if he could have stopped it from happening. Now Chanyeol is trying not to break. Trying hard to keep that smile on his face, but all Kyungsoo sees now is an ugly grimace.

Kyungsoo moves to take Chanyeol's phone off his hand, briefly taking note of the reams of messages on the LED screen. Question after question after question. None of them are reassuring.

 _Is it true? Is Kris leaving EXO_?

"I know how hard it must be for you," Kyungsoo whispers. "Out of all of us, you were the closest to him." The shadow of pain flickers across Chanyeol's face. The clench of his jaw, the grit of his teeth. That flash of anger that he tries so hard to control, because he's meant to be the Happy Virus.

"He could have said something to me. Selfish fucking prick," Chanyeol says thickly, like the words wouldn't form properly in his mouth, caught in his throat. He grabs the nearest empty water bottle and squashes it with his fist, before throwing it against the wall. It rolls away limply underneath one of the benches, its short course eventually halted by Chanyeol's frayed rucksack.

"He did what he had to do, Chanyeol. We don't own him. He makes his own choices."

"Are you on his side now?" Chanyeol asks, his inflection rising in a fever pitch. "Are you going to leave us too? Leave me?"

Chanyeol is angry. He's wired and tired and conflicted -- by his feelings, by Yifan's apparent betrayal. In the years to come, Chanyeol would learn to understand Yifan's decision, even if they weren't allowed to talk about it in public. In a different universe.

Kyungsoo hasn't seen Chanyeol all worked up, not like this in a long time, not since --

He tries to repress those memories from what seemed like forever ago. The words _"I wasn't the one who left_ " hover on the tip of his tongue, but Kyungsoo bites them off, swallows them despite the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth. It's not fair for Chanyeol.

This Chanyeol doesn't know. How could he?

"I won't leave you," Kyungsoo says, before a sudden wave of emotion washes over him, tumultuous in its course. Kyungsoo couldn't breathe. He needs to get out of here, out of this dance studio he shouldn't have set foot in the first place, breaking the laws of time and space.

He needs to get away from Chanyeol, away from it all, so he runs, and runs, and runs--

* * *

Some days Kyungsoo wakes up in other universes more similar to the one he came from. The one where Kyungsoo never became a singer, an actor, an idol. Safe in the anonymity of everyday life, trawling along the humdrum of ordinariness.

In some universes Kyungsoo finds himself lurking in the darkness, watching himself on the billboards on the streets, on TV, on adverts and food products. He sees himself once, from afar, standing side by side with Chanyeol as they are filming something on the streets of Insadong. In those universes, Kyungsoo would avoid being seen, or hides himself in the rush hour crowds of Gangnam for the fear of getting recognized.

In other pockets of time and space, Kyungsoo learns he is a pastry chef. A museum curator. A historian. But in most of them, Kyungsoo senses a recurrent theme. Chanyeol will always be there, in one way or another. Despite the circumstances. There is one universe where Chanyeol is the one who doesn't chase the limelight, the fame. He's a restaurateur, a chef. There is a universe where Kyungsoo marries his high school sweetheart, and Chanyeol was his best man. Another universe where Chanyeol and Kyungsoo are both musicians, but not in the same band. Kyungsoo has never showed himself to Chanyeol, not in those lifetimes. He doesn't want to make the mistake of meeting Chanyeol's eyes again, not like last time.

Those were the choices, the roads they could but had not taken. The infinite probabilities at the flip of a coin or the turn of a dice. Words unsaid. Things undone.

* * *

The next time Kyungsoo wakes up, he's thirty-three, and he's in the middle of the Gwanghwamun Palace complex. He passes by unnoticed by the tourist crowds, cameras around their necks as they pause to gaze in awe at the architectural feats, the contrast between bright red roofs and clear blue skies. He breathes a lungful of fresh, crisp autumn air, but only hears the footsteps too little too late.

"Boo!"

It startles Kyungsoo, because he doesn't expect to be recognized, let alone greeted like this. He turns around and finds Chanyeol, grinning from ear to ear like someone's stuffed a hanger in his mouth. Toben is sniffing Kyungsoo's trouser-leg, as if he's someone that the little dog is familiar with. A film crew is behind him, the hustle and bustle of assistants fixing an actress's costume, the boom mics, the cameras. Chanyeol seems as surprised to see Kyungsoo there, but he stares at Kyungsoo in wonderment instead of repulsion.

"I thought you were going home, visiting your mom? Did you miss me that much to stalk me at work?"

Kyungsoo's blood curdles, stomach pulled up to his chest. He doesn't know how to explain this, he hasn't planned for it. People are watching them now, pointing at Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, making cooing noises and pointing their smartphone cameras at Kyungsoo and Chanyeol's faces. Suddenly, Kyungsoo doesn't feel so safe anymore. This is one of the universes where Chanyeol is famous and he is not.

He pulls at the sleeve of Chanyeol's bubble jacket. "Are you free?" he asks, voice small and unsure. Chanyeol nods. "My shooting part's done for the day, anyway," he tells Kyungsoo.

"Come with me," Kyungsoo says, leading Chanyeol to a more deserted area within the palace complex, away from film crews and tourists. Free from wandering eyes and ears. Chanyeol signals his PA to allow them some privacy. The small mercies of fame, Kyungsoo thinks.

And then, without hesitation, Kyungsoo says, "I'm not who you think I am."

* * *

Chanyeol merely raises an eyebrow. It annoys Kyungsoo, the way his nonchalance chooses to present itself at this moment. He's expected an over-exaggerated surprised reaction, at least."Is this some Halloween prank?" Chanyeol asks, a lazy smirk curling on the edges of his sly lips.

Kyungsoo looks past Chanyeol's head and stares at the autumnal trees, the red and brown and yellowing leaves, falling gingerly to kiss the earth. It must be around that time of year, Kyungsoo muses."It's not a prank. Have you heard of parallel universes?"

* * *

This time, Chanyeol does look at Kyungsoo as if he's grown another head, or a third eye, or a fifth limb. "Have you been watching too many sci-fi movies, Kyungsoo?"

"I haven't," Kyungsoo says, resigned. "I have read enough string theories to understand parallel universes, though. And they do exist. I've travelled from my universe to this one. And so many others like it."

"You're serious," Chanyeol gasps, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Are you going to get a psych evaluation on me now, Chanyeol? Or do you need one for yourself?" Kyungsoo asks, with a dash of resentment. He knows what _his_ Chanyeol had been through. How it had affected him.

 _This_ Chanyeol, though. He's weighing Kyungsoo's words carefully in his mind, and in this silence Kyungsoo could still hears the cogs moving, thinking. "If I call you-- him, the other Kyungsoo-- now," Chanyeol begins, but doesn't dare to complete the question, knowing its implication.

"If he's in Goyang, that's where he'll be."

Chanyeol hits the speed dial button on his phone, pressing the screen close to his ear.

"Chanyeol?" a familiar voice asks after the third ring. Kyungsoo fixes his gaze on the zipper of Chanyeol's bulky jacket, despite the burn of Chanyeol's stare down his neck.

"Just checking where you are," Chanyeol says down the phone.

"I'm at my mom's," the other Kyungsoo replies. "Anything wrong?"

"No, just-- send my regards to your family, is all."

"You could have texted me to say that, you silly oaf."

"Yeah," Chanyeol hums. "Well, I gotta go," he says stiffly, adjusting his collar. A pause, then: "Take care, Kyungsoo."

"Take care too. You're still in the middle of filming, aren't you? Don't work too hard."

There is a certain kind of fondness in the other Kyungsoo's inflection, even when it sounds like he's chiding Chanyeol. There is a smile on Chanyeol's lips, even as he hangs up.

Kyungsoo stares up at him now, expecting Chanyeol to do backflips and scream in disbelief. There comes none. This Chanyeol is more serious, he thinks, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. He's still Chanyeol. That twinkle of mischief in his eyes confirms it.

"So, do you believe me?" Kyungsoo asks.

"I don't know."

"What else can I do to make you believe me?"

"If you are who you say you are, then tell me-- how is this universe different from yours?"

Kyungsoo drags a slow, deep breath, aware now of a group of stray seven year-olds who are venturing towards them, away from their larger school trip group. He lowers his voice. "There's not much difference between your universe and mine, Some things are still the same, but some are inherently different."

"Different how?"

"You and I, we know each other in most of them. We're close," Kyungsoo reminisces, walking a fine line between fond and fractured memories. "But you could be an actor in this life and and a musician in the next. A social worker, a lawyer. And what a damn fine lawyer you were."

"And how about you?" Chanyeol asks. "You've always been my friend in this universe. We've known each other since we were five."

Kyungsoo exhales and kicks a pebble mindlessly. The kids have gone, after their teacher called them away. "You met me when you were twenty-five, at a busy ER, in a hospital not far from here. In some universes, we would have met at fifteen, at some audition for an entertainment company."

"Are you in the entertainment business too?"

"I'm not," Kyungsoo confesses, his cheeks burning from the sun and Chanyeol's relentless gaze. Out of habit he fiddles with the metal on his finger, and the tiny movement doesn't pass unnoticed.

"You're married," Chanyeol points out.

 _That's the Chanyeol I know,_ Kyungsoo thinks. _Always so attentive._

"Yes," Kyungsoo nods. There is no point denying the truth.

"She's a lucky woman," Chanyeol smiles. "Do I know her?"

"You do," Kyungsoo replies, swallowing heavily. "But he's dead."

Chanyeol's soft utterance of a 'Sorry' doesn't even cut through the sudden tolling bells in Kyungsoo's head, or sooth the sudden searing pain in Kyungsoo's heart. _He doesn't know_ , Kyungsoo tells himself, Chanyeol doesn't know.

 _He's dead_ , Kyungsoo hears himself say again and again, not just to Chanyeol but as a reminder to himself. _He's dead._

* * *

 

"I'm sorry, I really am," Chanyeol echoes himself, as if finding solace from the phrase. He looks forlorn, downcast. Like a kicked puppy.

"Don’t be."

"You must have loved him," Chanyeol comments in kind.

"With all my heart."

"Is it Jongin, then?"

Kyungsoo lifts his head swiftly, sending Chanyeol a stern, hard look. He is too tired to argue, he doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. Chanyeol, clueless as always. It's a wonder how he often ranks himself on top of every list, but not the one that matters. Kyungsoo knows he's given too much away, that he needs to stop.

He needs to run.

 _Leave_.

But the sun is too bright and Chanyeol is watching him too intently, and Kyungsoo thinks that he is more radiant than a thousand stars combined, more beautiful than the infinite constellations in the skies, that he has to look away.

Before Kyungsoo could make sense of his incoherent thoughts, Chanyeol's warm hand on his drooped, sagging shoulder snaps him out of his reverie. Kyungsoo forces himself to face Chanyeol again, and discovers the slow, dawning realization forming on Chanyeol's expressive countenance.

This time, it is Chanyeol who says, "Come with me."

* * *

It's easy to fool the director that something urgent's come up and Chanyeol has to leave the set for the day. It's easier still to convince them that Kyungsoo is _Chanyeol's_ Kyungsoo, instead of Kyungsoo the Dimension Traveller. Same difference, Kyungsoo thinks, apart from the sad wrinkles around his eyes and the downturned mouth that has never been fully reversed since losing Chanyeol.

_My Chanyeol._

"Where are we going?" Kyungsoo asks, although deep down he knows the answer.

"Home," Chanyeol simply replies.

* * *

It is different to the one Kyungsoo remembers. It is in a similar neighbourhood, but this Chanyeol lives alone instead of a dorm, or with his family, or with Kyungsoo. A framed photo hangs on the wall of the both of them, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, just the both of them. Kyungsoo glances away, as if in guilt of a sin he has yet to commit.

As soon as Chanyeol closes the door behind them, both remain stubbornly silent. There are no words for this. Chanyeol's eyes say everything, the things he couldn't have said to the other Kyungsoo. How he felt when he found out that they were-- are-- could have been--

It's a dissonance.

Kyungsoo could only gasp when Chanyeol's lips crash onto his, and he clings to Chanyeol like a lifeline, like this is the last breath he'll ever take, the last time he'll ever hold Chanyeol this way. Chanyeol is everything familiar and absolute, the final puzzle piece that completes him. It must be why Kyungsoo continues to search for him, even when he's gone. To latch on those memories, to find a happy ending.

He kisses Chanyeol in return, desperate, an earnest plea. Kyungsoo nips at Chanyeol's sharp jaw and doesn't mind getting hurt, if it means that he's able to breathe, touch, taste Chanyeol like this again. Chanyeol's cold fingertips tremble over Kyungsoo's hot skin, unsure, but only because this is the first time that he's doing this with Kyungsoo. He's being too careful, as if afraid to break Kyungsoo, as if Kyungsoo will be torn into a million pieces, or burn into ashes, or disappear between the cracks of time and space.

"Chanyeol," Kyungsoo whispers, "It's okay," he reassures him. It's all it takes before something lights up in Chanyeol, before he moves like a feral animal, hungry for his prey. He devours Kyungsoo like a starved prisoner, tasting freedom for the first time.

It's been too long, and Kyungsoo misses this. He misses Chanyeol too goddamned much. "Chanyeol," he says, over and over as they move together, chasing the heights of pleasure -- but God, there is so much pain, so much agony as he gazes up at the face of the man he loves, knowing that this will have to end. This isn't fair for him or Chanyeol, or _his_ Chanyeol or the _other_ Kyungsoo. No matter what fate this universe has in store for them. Kyungsoo in this timeline, in this universe, is an anomaly, and he's done enough damage just by existing here.

"Kyungsoo," Chanyeol groans against his temple, as Kyungsoo tears him apart and makes him whole again. There is only the white noise in his ears when they come, almost in synchrony, the hot rush of ecstasy. Kyungsoo shakes, violent and rhythmless, but Chanyeol holds him and keeps him together, in the safe cocoon of his arms, his winged angel. It is only when he feels the wetness on his cheeks, against Chanyeol's chest that he realizes how hard he is sobbing, his repressed emotions erupting from the deep caverns of his heart-- denial, anger, desire, joy, sadness, grief, _love_.

* * *

Chanyeol brushes the tendrils of Kyungsoo's hair across his forehead, presses a soft kiss at the corner of his eyes. Waiting for Kyungsoo to disappear, waiting for this feverish daydream to end.

"I don't do one night stands," Chanyeol suddenly says, like a petulant child.

"I know," Kyungsoo mumbles lazily, and rubs his face against the sheets, breathing in Chanyeol's scent on the pillows, the sheets, his skin.

"You know so much about me."

"I know about your father's guitar and your knack for songwriting. I know about your ferrets and penchant for looking after pets, even if your parents won't let you when you were nine."

"You could have just Googled those information, they'd come up online," Chanyeol protests lightly.

"Including what happened to your ferrets when you were nine?" Kyungsoo asks with a mischievous smile.

"You knew that because you were there when it happened," Chanyeol insists.

Kyungsoo shakes his head, before linking their fingers together, pressing a kiss on the back of Chanyeol's hand. "I wasn't, Chanyeol. I knew because you told me, when we were twenty-six."

* * *

That's what this is. A _dissonance._

"Don't leave," Chanyeol pleads.

"I have to," Kyungsoo says thickly. He doesn't want to say it, but he has to. For their sake, Kyungsoo has to be the stronger one, this time.

Chanyeol is beautiful like this -- his long, lean, muscled body all revealed in its glory, for Kyungsoo's eyes to see. The blanket covering his waist downwards gives some semblance of modesty, but all Kyungsoo feels is pride, to have had the honour to love someone like Chanyeol.

"I'm sorry," Chanyeol stutters. "I'm sorry, Kyungsoo."

"Stop saying sorry," Kyungsoo says, leaning into the space between them, pressing their foreheads together. "Please," Kyungsoo whispers. It's not Chanyeol's fault. It was never Chanyeol's fault.

He could feel the warm morning sun on his skin, Chanyeol's breath on his lips. Another soft kiss, turning into two, then three, then Kyungsoo loses count. He wishes he could stay here, in this moment forever. But this universe doesn't belong to him, and there is no place for him here. Kyungsoo has to be brave and strong, as his Chanyeol once has been.

"Stay."

"I can't."

"Can't I come with you?"

"Chanyeol," Kyungsoo manages to say, before he feels the familiar pull, the buzz in his head and he knows it is time. "He loves you," Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol, rushing his words in the time he has left. "He doesn't know how to say or show it, but he does. I should know, because he's me. Because--," Kyungsoo pauses, because the pain is unbearable. He's sinking, drowning, suffocating. A thousand blades piercing tnrough his viscera, disintegrating him from the inside. "Tell him you love him--," Kyungsoo says, "--before it's too late."

And that's when Chanyeol disappears from his sight.

* * *

Kyungsoo's back at the starting point. Again and again, as it always has been, for the multiverse to be put right as it should be.

All that's left is a memory from a life long lived.

And that, Kyungsoo thinks, that would be enough.

"I love you," he says, hoping that in every universe, Chanyeol would be able to hear him.

That would be enough.

\--

.end


End file.
